Chapter 9
* * *
Candy leaned into Aeolus for the entire drive, her head tucked against the hard plane of his shoulder.
Her fingers traced lazy, absentminded circles on his forearm, not really thinking—just needing the contact.
Every inch of her ached, and her mind was a fog of exhaustion and leftover adrenaline, but his presence grounded her. His warmth. His scent. Him.
Outside the window, the lights of Los Angeles blurred past in smears of gold and white, but she didn’t bother looking. There was nothing out there she needed to see. Everything she needed was right beside her.
When the car pulled into the underground garage of the skyscraper, she was practically asleep.
Aeolus didn’t wait.
He stepped out first, then reached back inside and swept her into his arms like she weighed nothing. Candy let out a drowsy protest, her voice muffled against his chest.
“I can walk,” she mumbled, curling her fingers in the fabric of his shirt.
“I know you can,” Aeolus said, his voice deep and rumbling, already walking toward the elevator. “But I need you in my arms.”
“Possessive,” she muttered, trying not to smile.
“Always.”
The ride up to the penthouse was silent except for the steady thump of his heartbeat against her ear. She melted into it. Into him.
Earlier that night, Adonis had peeled away with Betsy in tow, the elder wolf refusing to leave her side for even a second. Betsy had given Candy one of her signature smirks as she climbed into the SUV.
“You’re gonna be fine,” she’d said. “Call me tomorrow.”
“I’ll call when I can breathe,” Candy had muttered.
And then Aeolus had lifted her into his arms and carried her off like a barbarian raiding a kingdom.
Now, the elevator doors slid open—and her breath caught.
The penthouse was unreal.
Dark stone floors shimmered in the low light, accented by touches of sleek black and brushed gold.
Wall-to-wall glass windows overlooked the glittering cityscape, the moonlight casting silver shadows across the luxurious interior.
A massive fireplace glowed softly in the living room, near an untouched grand piano that seemed to hum with stories it had never told.
Then—the bedroom.
Candy blinked at the sheer size of the bed. Black silk sheets. A headboard carved with wolves. And beyond it, the city stretched forever.
“You live like a damn king,” she muttered, only half-awake.
“No,” Aeolus said as he crossed the threshold. “Kings sleep alone. I was waiting for my queen.”
Then, without warning, he tossed her onto the bed.
Candy let out a breathless laugh, bouncing slightly as she landed. “You just threw me!”
Aeolus stood over her, the shadows highlighting every hard line of his chest, his eyes a burning storm of blue.
“You didn’t complain,” he murmured.
“Because I’m too tired to argue.”
He prowled toward the bed, dropping to his knees beside her. “Then rest.”
She sank into the silk sheets, but the way he was looking at her—like she was a feast he’d been starving for—made her pulse quicken.
“Aeolus…” she whispered, her voice low. “I love you.”
The words spilled out, soft and raw, before she could even think. But once they were out—she didn’t want to take them back.
Aeolus froze.
Then, slowly, deliberately, he climbed over her, bracing his arms on either side of her head. His eyes searched hers, like he needed to be sure he’d heard right.
“Say it again,” he said, voice rough and low.
“I love you,” she said, louder this time. Firmer. Real.
And just like that—he shattered.
He crushed his mouth to hers in a kiss that wasn’t careful or slow or sweet. It was wild, desperate, demanding. He kissed her like a man barely holding himself together. Like a man who had just survived hell and was only now sure he’d made it out.
When he pulled back, his breath was ragged, his hand brushing her cheek.
“I love you, Candy,” he said hoarsely. “I love you so damn much I can’t breathe without you.”
Her heart squeezed, the last walls she didn’t know she’d been holding finally crumbling.
“I don’t want to be without you ever again,” she whispered.
“You won’t be.” His voice was a vow. A blade. “I’ll tear the world apart if it ever tries to take you from me.”
Then he kissed her again, deeper this time. Slower. But no less intense.
His hands slid under her shirt—his shirt—touching her like he couldn’t believe she was real. Candy arched into him, her exhaustion fading beneath the heat building between them, the fire of love and lust burning hotter than ever.
“You should sleep,” he murmured against her neck.
“You should let me,” she teased.
He chuckled darkly. “Not a chance.”
And then—
He reminded her.
With every kiss, every touch, every growled whisper against her skin, Aeolus reminded her of what they were.
What they’d survived.
And what they’d become.
Two warriors who’d found each other in the wreckage.
And finally—finally—they were home.
* * *
He felt her absence before his eyes even opened.
The bed was still warm beside him, the faint imprint of her body lingering on the sheets like a phantom. Her scent—honey and cinnamon and temptation itself—clung to the cotton, embedding itself into his skin, into his lungs, into his very soul.
But the moment his senses registered the empty space next to him, his wolf snapped awake, a low growl rumbling in his chest.
Where is she?
Logic tried to cut through the haze.
She was safe. This was the Stavros compound—fortress, stronghold, kingdom. Enchanted wards, reinforced borders, and blood-sworn enforcers stood between her and the rest of the world. Nothing could breach the estate.
But instincts didn’t give a damn about reason.
Not when his mate was gone from his side.
Aeolus threw back the covers and moved before he was fully conscious of doing it. Sweatpants, nothing else. His bare feet were soundless on the hardwood floors as he stalked through the corridor, his body humming with purpose. He didn’t need light. Didn’t need direction.
He could find her blind.
Her scent was a trail only he could follow.
The house was quiet. Silent in a way only the aftermath of war could bring—the kind of silence earned through blood and fire.
Betsy’s siren energy hummed faintly from the western wing, tangled up with Adonis’s unmistakable dominance. Atlas and Ares were still on watch near the perimeter, silent sentries beneath the moon.
But her?
His Candy?
She wasn’t in bed. She wasn’t resting. She wasn’t curled up in the safety of his arms where she belonged.
And that was unacceptable.
He tracked her to the far wing of the estate, past the glass-walled conservatory, through a stone corridor lined with weapons and old magic. The moonlight led him, silver beams illuminating the path like it too knew where he was meant to go.
And then he saw her.
Barefoot. Glowing. Untouchable.
Candy stood on the balcony like a vision from some ancient dream—a goddess clothed in one of his shirts, the oversized fabric slipping off one shoulder, exposing warm brown skin and the elegant curve of her neck. Her braids fell down her back like silk ropes, swaying slightly in the breeze.
She stole his breath.
But it wasn’t her beauty that twisted his chest.
It was the stillness.
The way she stood so quietly, her gaze tilted up to the stars, shoulders tense, body rigid. Like she was bracing herself for something invisible. Like she was still fighting ghosts she couldn’t name.
Even now. Even after Elias had been reduced to nothing but ash and memory.
Even after she’d survived.
She didn’t know how to stop surviving.
And he hated that.
Aeolus moved toward her, silent as a shadow, a predator with no intent to harm, only to claim. His arms slid around her waist from behind, pulling her into the heat of his body, anchoring her to him.
She didn’t flinch.
Didn’t startle.
Because she had known he’d come.
He always came.
Candy sighed, her body melting back into his, the tension bleeding from her limbs as she leaned into his chest.
“You weren’t in bed,” he murmured against the shell of her ear, his voice low, rough with sleep and barely banked possessiveness.
She tilted her head, offering him her neck. “Neither were you.”
His lips skimmed her skin, lingering. “I don’t sleep well when you’re not next to me.”
A quiet laugh escaped her, soft and sad. “I just needed air.”
His arms locked around her tighter, his body bracketing hers. “No. You needed peace.” His voice dropped, almost a growl. “And it pisses me off that you don’t know how to ask for it.”
She didn’t argue. Because he was right.
Her whole life had been made of chaos. Of running. Of fighting. Of hiding behind strength because it was the only armor that didn’t crack.
Even now, standing in the safest place she’d ever known, wrapped in the arms of a male who would bring kingdoms to their knees for her, she couldn’t stop the part of her that stayed braced for the next blow.
She turned slowly, facing him, her hands sliding up his bare chest, fingers tracing the scars she now knew by heart. “I forgot how to just… exist,” she whispered. “To live.”
Aeolus cupped her jaw with both hands, tilting her face up to his.
“Then let me teach you.”
Her throat worked around a thick swallow. “You really think I can forget all of it? That I can unlearn the fear?”
His lips brushed her forehead, reverent. “No. I don’t want you to forget it. That fear is part of who you are. It’s how you survived. It’s how you stayed alive long enough to be mine.”
Her breath hitched. “I don’t want to just survive anymore.”
His hands slid down her back, anchoring her to him. “Then don’t. Stay with me. Let me carry it now.”
She stared into his eyes, stormy and endless, and felt the walls she’d spent a lifetime building start to crumble.
“I love you,” she said, the words barely more than a breath. “I didn’t think I’d ever be able to say that and mean it.”
Aeolus froze, his body going still as a statue.
Then—
His mouth crashed into hers.
Not gentle. Not careful.
Desperate. Dominant. Claiming.
She moaned into the kiss, wrapping herself around him as he devoured her. His hands were everywhere—her waist, her ass, her back—like he couldn’t get enough of her, like he needed to feel every inch of her to believe this was real.
He lifted her easily, setting her on the balcony rail, spreading her knees so he could step between them, so he could fit himself against her perfectly.
Her fingers tugged at his hair, and he growled into her mouth.
“You’re mine, Candy Laurent,” he rasped, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes. “And you’re never waking up alone again.”
She smiled, wild and free and unafraid. “Good. Because I’m not going anywhere.”
His forehead dropped to hers.
And just like that—
The ghosts fell silent.
The fear faded.
And Candy stopped surviving.
Because now… she was finally living.